Site 16 - The Tartarus Gate
by Dr. Edmund Sirus
Summary: The SCP Foundation gives you long hours, low pay, a high chance of death, and treasures blacker than our hearts. That is the price of knowledge, Twilight. You may have all our secrets. All we ask is for your soul.
1. The Foundation Creed

This is not our world. We are a grain of sand on the beach. A star in the fabric of the midnight sky. We share this world with horrors beyond imagining and comprehension, but the Foundation cannot ask for aid. We are alone in this war. We trudge through the darkness so that the world can enjoy one more day in the light. We do not steal the truth, we secure the truth so people may live normal lives. We do not lie to protect ourselves, we lie to contain evil and danger. We do not rule, we protect the innocent from the juggernauts of the earth. We suffer so that others may go about their lives in peace.

We Secure. We Contain. We Protect.

- "The Administrator"

* * *

An SCP Foundation story

Editors: Trachyon


	2. Wrong Place, Wrong Time

**Wrong Place, Wrong Time**

Twilight could not help but indulge herself in the morning air. Breathing deeply, she inhaled the scents scattered on the winds: crisp leaves, fresh water from a nearby spring, and the earthy scent of soil and meager grasses. The sun warmed her back as she stretched her limbs to their limits, cracks and pops shooting both up and down her body.

She had slept under the shade of a girthy oak tree with a blanket form her saddlebags. Such rural and naturalistic features were far different than the cozy warmth of her Ponyville home, but such facts did not bother the studious unicorn at that moment. Twilight had a job to do, and she intended to complete it.

The dawn rays illuminated the deep rolling hills and cliff faces of lands far west of Canterlot or Ponyville. The usual beds of flowers or lengthy expanses of greenery were becoming fewer and farther in between the further she traveled. Daffodils, lilies, and other superfluously pleasurable flora were rare finds. Large patches of barren stone and earth were becoming more and more common.

"Big day," she told herself before releasing a mighty yawn. "The Gates of Tartarus should be near." Twilight had been escorting Cerberus across Equestria since the previous afternoon. It had been most uneventful, devoid of even local creatures. Strange... why were all the critters and small animals gone? They had been plentiful for the first several miles of her trek out of Ponyville, but ever since she had fallen asleep, they had been missing.

"Strange..." Twilight chalked up the incongruity to the proximity of Tartarus. It _was_ the prison for some of the land's most dangerous monsters after all. If she wasn't escorting Cerberus, she wouldn't be caught anywhere near the blasted place.

"Although I could just check out some books in the Royal Canterlot Library," she thought out loud. But, of course, there was nothing quite like hoofs-on experience after all.

Twilight cantered over a small hill and smiled; Cerberus hadn't moved from his temporary bed in the slightest. Cerberus had plopped himself down in the center of a large depression between hills. Large for a pony was, of course, just the right size for Cerberus. The dog had rolled onto his back in the throes of sleep. A tiny procession of droll oozed out of its snoring jowls and dripped onto the dirt.

"Wake up, you overgrown pup. We have to get you back to the Gates." Twilight walked up to the dog and began nudging one of its three head. "Come on." Twilight looked around briefly and spotted the ball she had used to entice the gate guardian to follow her. Using her magic, she levitated the sphere above its nose. The ball was slathered in droll and she refused to touch it.

"Come on, Cerberus. It's time to wake up." Cerberus sniffed the air and kicked one of its hind legs. The action uprooted a small tree. Twilight sighed and nudged the massive head once again. "We have a disaster to stop! My future self said so!"

Next Tuesday morning. That was the deadline her future self had given... herself. To prevent some calamity in the future, she had saw fit to turn back the clock and warn herself about something terrible. The exact context of the disaster was unknown, as Future Twilight didn't have quite enough time to to elaborate. However, seeing Cerberus storm into town, it wasn't hard to discover why.

"Wake up!" Cerberus twitched and groaned, licking its lips. with its lengthy tongue. "Yuck! You need a breath mint." Dog breath was bad enough, but dog morning breath? Ew.

Nevertheless, all three of its heads yawned. "That's a good Cerberus. Come on, we..." Twilight trailed off. Twilight had been rubbing one of Cerberus' heads to coax it out of sleep. Beneath the blackened fur was a... groove? No... Twilight felt along the skull with a hoof, exploring curiously.

No, not a groove. A scar. Running right along the front of the skull where the frontal lobe was, a single scar ran along its skull. The center was what looked like a puncture wound that fracture the skull in a spiderweb pattern.

"...What?" It was a grievous injury, if a fully healed one. The pain must have been agonizing. But how did the wound heal so perfectly? Twilight found it, and only by accident. Such care could have only been accomplished in the most state of the art facilities, not out in the open air of Equestria, far away from any civilization in general.

Twilight didn't have time to ponder any further. Cerberus rose to its pawed feet and stretched. The popping occurring up and down its spine sounded more like a small explosion belonging in Twilight's workshop than the displacement of bodily fluids and air. Two of its heads looked around blearily, while one focused on the ball currently in Twilight's telekinetic grasp.

Twilight shrugged the thought off; it wasn't as important as getting Cerberus back to the Gates. Whoever repaired the wound knew what they were doing, and for that, Twilight was thankful. Even the hulking, seemingly playful, guardian needed care by ponykind.

Twilight trotted, which quickly broke into a full gallop. The heightened speed was necessary; Cerberus was a medium-sized monster and outpaced her in a few strides. With a little sliver of magic from her horn, Twilight Blinked out of existence and reappeared a good hundred meters ahead of Cerberus. The dog caught up quickly, and then Twilight repeated the process, Blinking out once more.

Even at such a greatly accelerated pace due to her speed-assisted magic, it was exhaustive for the young unicorn. Twilight was by no means lazy, but the bookworm's sedentary lifestyle did not grant her an excess of stamina. Not more than ten minutes at full gallop between Blinks, Twilight was already puffing and panting for breath. Twilight slowed to a meager canter and Cerberus halted in front of her, each head grinning vapidly with tongues hanging out.

"Okay, Cerberus." Rather than levitate the ball any further, Twilight hurled it through the air. One head barked after the flying object and it scampered off, shaking the earth with each thunderous step.

Twilight sighed and panned her head across the landscape as she caught her breath. She had been paying just enough attention to avoid any precipices of difficult terrain, but the effort to keep running had produced a tunnel vision in which she could not break until she halted. Most of the flora had faded altogether, with the exception of hardy trees coated on tough, gnarled bark. The soil had become more rocky than earthy. Only the most fortuitous plants were capable of surviving in the harsher environment. It was hard to believe that the lush, if dangerous, Everfree Forest was less than a day's gallop away. The land was slowly dying.

"No, not dying... withering." Not even the pegasi lived in the area to help control the weather. The rocky landscape was as wild and untamed as the craggy outcroppings and barren land suggested. As unusual as it was, no animals were in sight still. "Odd." Animals tended to at least take minimal care of themselves, but there were none. No animals, let alone ponies.

"Indeed I do, Red Leader. Primary target sighted. Civvie in proximity. A single pony. Purple coat. Civvie is taking a breather while SCP-284 is moving forward. Terminate, Captain?" whispered a voice silently.

Up in the skies, hidden from even the most careful eyes, a single pegasus was donned in charcoal gray clothing to become nearly invisible on his cumulous cloud. Slung over his back was a bulky piece of cylindrical metal wrapped in gray cloth to disguise it. The pegasus reached around and shoved a hoof into the empty cylinder. The pegasus lined his eyes between two rails in the metal and placed his mouth around the quick release trigger. Each side of the cylinder contained a magical distribution node to propel any object placed between the grooves at blinding speed. An auto injector accomplished such a task, but any substantially small piece of debris could be propelled with enough force to repaint walls with graymatter.

The pegasus had not yet received a reply from his CO, so he lay prone on the cloud and aimed his magic-propelled rail gun at the unsuspecting unicorn. The pegasus' earpiece crackled with static momentarily before the voice of his captain spoke, "Sending a visual to Command. Line up a shot and prepare to fire."

"Copy." The pegasus adjusted his shot to the unicorn's eye. Unicorns had substantially thicker skull structure than earth ponies or pegasi. While a shot from the rail gun would most likely kill the unicorn, there was a chance her skull could deflect most of the pellet's energy. The chance was minute, but she might survive, unless he targeted the skull where it was thinnest or not present at all.

A small compartment opened on the rail gun and released a tiny, spherical pellet between each rail. All it took now was to bite down on the release, and the unicorn would be nothing but red mist. All he needed was just one, simple word...

* * *

An SCP Foundation story

Editors: Wolfmaster1337, Maverick Frond


	3. Oh, crap

**Oh, crap...**

Doctor Sylar was still dragging his hooves. Yeah, he'd woken up at eight o'clock for his shift at nine, but the fact that he was conscious and breathing fresh oxygen wasn't enough to lift his downtrodden spirit. Sylar had the unfortunate privilege of being the Oracle for Mobile Task Force Beta-4 "Storm Chasers" as they tried to corral the pesky mutt Cerberus.

"Just put the Celestia damned dog under and be done with it." Lobotomizing the three heads had been difficult, costly, and at the price of over two dozen agents. Cerberus was once revered to be a mad berzerker, but now it was little more than a pup in terms of mental faculties. That didn't help much, as the blasted dog kept escaping while trying to play.

After his shift as an Oracle was up, he was going to request a termination of the thing and get it over with.

"Morning, Sylar," a unicorn crooned. Sylar looked at the one provoking his latent headache with bleary eyes. Doctor Sora was balancing on the very edge of his hooves.

Oh god, it was going to be a long day.

"Hello, Sora."

"You look awful."

"I wonder why," Sylar replied dryly. Sora offered him a cup of coffee, which he gratefully accepted and drank. Bleh; espresso. No wonder Sora was so chip.

Sora kept the conversation brief and left, leaving Sylar to his own devices. Even if he hated the taste of espresso, he took a hearty dose of the caffeinated beverage to diminish the sleep clouding his brain.

Sylar passed rows upon rows of cubicles full of ponies. The Foundation was an equal opportunity employer, but ponies far outstripped the staff by almost two to one. Doctor Grayfeather and Grendel were discussing something near the water cooler, Rashid quietly enjoyed a sandwich on his break, and Willows was quickly galloping into an office with a bunch of other researchers. Sounds of chatter blended together in a noisy cacophony. He caught conversations about stock prices, recent additions to the SCP archive, another containment breach by SCP-267, aaaaand Sylar tuned everything else out afterwards. Despite the open cubicles and cheerful demeanor of his fellow researchers, Sylar couldn't bring himself to care about any of the fuss he was or was not hearing.

The Foundation was a prison and a library, an nigh-impenetrable cell that housed some of the most dangerous creatures and items on the planet and a stockpile of all the information those oddities could provide. Honestly, Sylar was... bored.

Sylar exited the cubicles and entered a blank hallway intermittently lined with cameras. In Site-16, there was always someone watching.

Sylar sighed, telekinetically removed his ID card from around his neck, and swiped it in the slot. Sylar chewed over the rampant thoughts colliding in his head. What was wrong with him today? He'd never before had he woken up giving so little of a fuck before. There was _so much_ to learn and study and analyze, but maybe that was the trap he had fallen into. The Foundation hid such magnificent and terrible wonders from the eyes of the world, locking them behind gilded cages and walls of lies in the darkest holes imaginable. The Foundation was a prison, plain and simple, and host to the most fantastic things imaginable. But when the abnormal became normal, what made the allure so enticing diminishes. There really was too much of a good thing.

So Sylar levitated his coffee, opened another door, this one with actual armed griffons, and entered. He would do his job as an Oracle, instruct MTF Beta-4 if needed, and report any significant details as needed.

Wash, rinse, repeat, do paperwork.

Sylar took another sip of his coffee and winced; he _really_ didn't like the taste of espresso. His eyes started wandering down the hallway he was traversing. it was nothing special, just the regular boring gray as all the rest of the facility. Of course, there was the occasional painting to decorate the bland walls, but he wasn't quite feeling up to appreciating modern art.

The corridor he was walking down was interspaced by doors on either side. Each door had a single serial number printed across its surface with an Oracle contained behind most. Oracles were the lifelines of field agents and the mobile task forces. They were the eyes and ears, while the oracles were the brains. Need to call for a biohazard or clean-up crew? Why, your friendly neighborhood Oracle is only a phone call away. Need to carpet bomb a settlement to stop an infection? Call the Oracle.

"I need backup, Oracle. What do I do, Oracle? Stop touching your dick, Oracle," Sylar grumbled. Most Oracle input was routine to the point of excruciating. Summon back-up, give permission for Mnemonic Enchantments, catalog reports from agents and task forces, make a few calls to allow agents access into classified area. It was all so _boring_. It only got interesting when a new SCP was discovered or on the rare containment breach, Celestia forbid that ever happen. The last time Sylar checked, SCP-724 has a turnover of three agents a week.

"248... 249... 250... 251... 252..." The stallion halted at a door labeled 'O16-253'. Well, it was his stop. Sylar swiped his card once again. His Level 3 access card got him permission to access all but the most dangerous SCPs and secure areas. The little red light next to the scanner turned green, and the door hissed open.

Another unicorn sat on a pile of cushions in front of a computer terminal. Upon hearing the door hiss, the unicorn articulated into his headset slowly, "Standby, Beta-4. Prepare for a new Oracle." Some inarticulate garbage filtered over the comms. Whatever it was, Sylar was too far away to hear it out of the tiny headset.

The unicorn - Sylar forgot his name as soon as he read the nametag - gathered his meager gear and walked passed him. They bumped knees in warm camaraderie, and he quickly left. Sylar couldn't blame him. The Oracle chambers were little more than enclosed cubicles with the light of half dozen monitors and a single incandescent bulb to illuminate the room.

Sylar removed his saddlebags, set them in a corner, and drained his disgusting coffee in a final gulp. Shuddering at the taste, he placed the empty mug on his desk and sat down. Adjusting the cushions to suit his taste, he placed the headset firmly around his ears.

"Beta-4, this is Doctor Sylar, Level-3. Sing for me, everyone."

"Copy, Oracle. Captain Talos, Red Leader."

"Dawn, Red One."

"Iron Sight, Red Two."

"Bertha, Red Three."

"Ghost, Red Four."

"Tubalcain, Red Five."

Sylar waited for a moment, but no further voices made themselves known. "Storm Chasers," Sylar used the mobile task force's pet name rather than their Foundation-given one, "where is the remainder of your team?"

Talos responded, "On hold in Site-16, Oracle. The first known telemetry of SCP-284 was that it was heading for a civilian settlement. Orders were to not spook the locals, so we came in minimally."

"Roger that." Sylar chewed on his lower lip in thought, thinking. "Will mass amnesiacs be required, Red Leader?"

"Negative. SCP-284 has already left the settlement with zero confirmed casualties and fatalities. Subject is supposedly being herded back to Site-16 by a lone pony."

"How far from the subject are you?" Sylar placed a bobble-headed cat on the top of one of his many monitors. He tapped the head and the tabby started bobbing without conviction.

"Four clicks out, Oracle. Iron Sight has already been sent ahead for reconnaissance with Dawn as backup. We'll be upon the civvie shortly."

"Understood, Red Leader. Be prepared to administer a Class-B Mnemonic Enchantment with a suitable cover story. Arm yourselves in case the civilian proves hostile. Report any change in your mission as they occur."

"Affirmative. Over and out."

The entirety of Beta-4 was silent for the next half hour. Deciding to kill some time now that his cat stopped bobbing its head, Sylar pulled the live feeds from each team member. Ghost and Tubalcain followed on the barren ground, while the remainder used their wings. Iron Sight and Dawn rose above the clouds to gain an eye for the land, and it was not long until they sighted their quarry.

"Target acquired. Ten minutes out."

"Affirmative, Iron Eyes. Do you have confirmation on the presence of a civilian?" Talos asked over the radio.

"Indeed I do, Red Leader. Primary target sighted. Civvie in proximity. A single pony. Purple coat. Civvie is taking a breather while SCP-284 is moving forward. Terminate, Captain?" Iron Eyes' feed was brought to the front of all the others. The land was the barren rocks that Sylar had long been a staple of Site-16.

Sylar leaned to the left to a small water cooler. Using his magic to pull the tab, he filled his empty mug with water and took a sip.

"I see... her? Yes. Sending a visual to Command. Line up a shot and prepare to fire."

"Copy." In Iron Eyes' feed, he removed his weapon and lined up a shot. Talos, meanwhile, dabbled with his PDA and sent an image to his screen.

Sylar took a drink form his mug... and immediately spat it out.

"Oracle? Is everything alright?" Talos questioned. All he heard was a flood of static as Sylar's headset was saturated in water.

Sylar grabbed his mic and readjusted it. "Hold your fire! I repeat, hold your fire! Do not engage!"

"Stand down, Iron Eyes!" Talos called over the mic. He wasn't quite sure what had the doctor so aggravated, but he knew better than to question an Oracle.

"Change of plans, Captain. Escort SCP-284 back to Site-16 and secure the civilian. She is to not be harmed! Understood?"

"I gotcha, Oracle. Over and out."

The line crackled static for a moment before cutting out entirely. Sylar could only stare at his screen, slackjawed. "What the hell is she doing here?" A freeze frame of a lavender unicorn with a starburst cutiemark was plastered across one of his monitors. He shook his head, snapping himself out of his stupor. He rose, not even bothering to collect his saddlebags.

"Celestia fuck me with her horn or she's going to kill us all." Sylar swiped his card at the door and ran down the corridor at a full gallop.

On the plus side, Sylar wasn't bored anymore.

* * *

An SCP Foundation story


	4. EMAIL SUBJECT: Object Class Revisions

**TO**: All Foundation Personnel

**FROM**: Director ███, Records and Information Security Administration

**SUBJECT**: Object Class Revisions

Given the circumstances of Incident Report D875-12, the O5 Council desired an update to the object classes. No, we will not tell you why. Any reports requesting a change back to the original designations will be ignored. Insistence will result in demotion to Level 1. Further insistence will result in demotion to Class D.

No, you will not be missed.

**Anomalous:** There are certain objects that we collect, but still do not garner any formal SCP designation. Such items are not given the rank out of uselessness, but they serve no functional purpose to the Foundation other than being mildly curious. Occasionally, we will receive an item that will eventually warrant a designation. When this happens, the item is removed from the Anomalous archive.

**Neutralized:** The most famous among the Foundation is SCP-28-N. These are objects that have no unusual or uncontainable effects. Any former SCP should have a note stating the reason for the declassification and what object class it was.

Ex. SCP-XXXX-N

**Decommissioned:** Whether through termination orders or lack of valid reasons to expend time and resources, the Foundation must sometimes destroy an SCP. Objects classified as decommissioned receive a decommissioned suffix.

Ex. SCP-XXXX-D

**Explained**: Any SCP that we have figured out beyond any reasonable doubt. We obtain items of interest that we do not understand all the time, but we occasionally discover the how behind the why. If an SCP is Explained, we know how it works.

Ex. SCP-XXXX-EX

**Safe:** A "Safe" item or subject is something that can be safely and reliably contained if the proper procedures are followed to the letter. That does not mean that Safe designations are harmless, it means we can safely contain it.

Safe protocols are often simple, maybe even short. These procedures are expected to succeed in case of mishandling, unlike the more involved "Keter" class designation.

**Euclid**: Euclid SCPs cannot be predicted or explained by any known means. Sometimes subjects may be friendly towards the Foundation, but more often than not, they display a degree of hostility to us or life. It is difficult, if not impossible, to understand the full nature and makeup of a Euclid SCP.

All Euclid-class objects and subjects should have meticulous and precise containment protocols. Unlike Safe-class objects, such precautions are necessary and pose a grave threat if they fail. Procedures are often in place because we do not yet know the exact nature of the item in question.

**Keter**: This class is reserved for items or subjects that display extreme hostility to all known life and are extremely difficult to contain. Containment procedures are often extensive and redundant in order to minimize the threat, but extreme diligence is still required. Keter-class procedures must be followed to the letter at all times, lest the contained SCP inflict devastating harm on the people, environment, or the world itself. A mere desire for destruction is not enough to be considered Keter; the subject must have the will and/or ability to carry out such extreme damage and harm.

* * *

An SCP Foundation story

Editors: Trachyon


	5. SCP-1000 - White Horse

**Item #:** SCP-1000

**Object Class:** Euclid

**Special Containment Procedures:** Containment Area 16 surrounds the ██████████ █████ ██████ area and is to be quarantined from the public under the cover story of dangerous terrain. Any unauthorized personnel attempting to enter the grounds is to be detained for questioning and given a Class-A Mnemonic Enchantment. Should the perpetrator be prepubescent, questioning is suspended and the subject must be immediately escorted off site after the enchantment has been cast, as SCP-1000 hunts children with a greater tenacity than it hunts for adults.

Bi-hourly patrols containing no less than four (4) agents must patrol the grounds. Recording devices are attached to all agents at all times with all feeds backed up on external and on site sources. Device corruption is used to predict SCP-1000 proximity. If there is any fault with the equipment, replacement equipment must be obtained immediately. All equipment must be tested for faults every half hour. No weapons of any kind are permitted near the border of or inside Containment Area 16.

No Foundation staff are allowed to enter Containment Area 16 alone unless granted by majority O5 approval; failure to comply makes the risks punishment in of itself. All staff must pass basic and advanced psychological examinations with scores in the top five (5) percentile. Those with high resistance to psyonic manipulation or reality shifts are given preference. All instances of amnesia, paranoia, audio or visual hallucinations, violent or atypical behavior, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares, or acute insomnia must be reported immediately. No D-Class are allowed on site at any time in order to decrease exposure to SCP-100's cognitohazard effects.

No one is allowed to look near SCP-1000's general direction, regardless of the situation. Anyone discovered in the presence of SCP-1000 is officially MIA and no rescue must be attempted. Should there be anyone recovered from those deemed MIA, they must be placed under suicide watch and questioned on their experiences. Even if the missing agent or researcher is deemed sound of mind, he/she/it must not be released into active service until a minimum of six (6) months have passed.

Every eight (8) days, a single D-Class must be deposited near the geographical center of ██████████ █████ ██████. A visual and auditory recording device must be placed on each D-Class offered to SCP-1000. No agent or researcher may observe SCP-1000's behavior by any direct or indirect means.

Should any agents on patrol hear abnormal sounds up to and including: laughter, crying, shouts, screams, begging, humming, or moaning, they are to investigate the source. Should they encounter any civilians, they are to be detained and questioned prior to receiving a Class-A Mnemonic Enchantment. If agents discover SCP-1000 or any personnel in its presence, agents are to evacuate immediately and log all in the vicinity as MIA.

**Description:** SCP-1000 is a pony of unknown race or type. To date, SCP-1000 has not communicated with the Foundation or any known sources. No physical description can be made, as its inherent cognitohazard and corruption effects make observation nearly impossible. No further attempts are to be made to discover SCP-1000's physical appearance.

The subject has a corrosive effect on the mental state of all life forms that come into its presence. Prolonged exposure to subject has increasingly damaging effects regardless of time between incidents. Deleterious mental conditions increase at a logarithmic rate the closer one approaches the subject. Until more data can be compiled, it is unknown if such an effect is a deliberate act by SCP-1000 to not be seen, or a passive ability of its physical form.

SCP-1000's aura has an equally hazardous effect on technology. All complex devices, especially those that operate on electricity, suffer corruption and damage when it is near, yet operate at normal efficiency outside its area of influence.

SCP-1000 must be "fed" routinely to prevent it from preying on the public. Most life forms in its habitat have long since perished and those that remain instinctively flee in its close proximity. Subject enters a state of languor or vanishes from sight for approximately 2-9 days after feeding. Subject has shown increased docility and decreased assaults on Foundation personnel if presented with children instead of D-Class. A possible alteration in its feeding is undergoing review.

The subject has been known to attack agents and civilians when it needs to be "fed". Geo-locators attached to D-Class vanish as soon as SCP-100 abducts them. No remains have ever been found. The nature and desires of SCP-1000 remain a mystery, as does why it hunts.

The subject has the ability to selectively choose who sees it and who doesn't, effectively rendering it invisible to all but its prey. Such behavior is likely a tactic to induce fear. While any correlation to Changelings is pending giving further data on SCP-1000, all reported sightings must be documented and investigated. Should SCP-1000 ever venture out of its habitat, protocol is to locate a █████████████ orphanage and deposit 1-5 children into the Area's geographical center. This has proven to decrease lengthy containment breaches by 68%.

**Addendum 1000-1A:** Transcript of audio log on ██/██/████ of Doctor █████'s personal log. Doctor █████ had left his recording spell activated and was recording notes. He had also attached Class-D (D-273) with a recording device to study SCP-1000's behavior. The D-Class filming can be heard behind the camera.

**BEGIN LOG**

[Doctor is humming a lullaby while the sound of both of his recording spells can be heard binding images to film in the background.]

"Five minutes, no activity from SCP-1000. D-273 is attempting to escape the Area, despite fractured legs. "

[Inarticulate moaning from D-273 recording. Doctor continues humming. A scratching quill can be heard close by]

_It is at this point that both films become corrupted for approximately five (5) seconds. When █████'s personal log resumes recording, he is no longer writing._

"Hello?"

[The Doctor can be heard slowly moving away from his notes]

"Who's that? Skylar? Aegis? Is that you?"

_Film is corrupt for approximately one (1) second._

"Who was laughing? Who's out there?" [The doctor's voice is low and trembling] "Skylar? Not **[EXPLETIVE REDACTED]** funny; you know what's out there."

_Film is corrupt for approximately ten (10) seconds. When it returns, _█████'s _voice cannot be heard. D-273 can still be heard in the background as the magical stream is fitted onto film._

_Film is corrupt for approximately three (3) seconds. When it returns, heavy panting can be heard from someone other than D-273._

_Film is corrupt for approximately three (3) seconds. When it returns, someone_ _has returned to the lab. They are panting and vomiting on the floor. _

"Please..." [Returned voice is confirmed to be Doctor █████]

**[DATA REDACTED]**

"No. No! I'm sorry! I didn't! Oh god..." [Doctor █████ is heard scrambling away from the doorway]

_Film is corrupt for approximately two (2) seconds. When it returns, the laughter of children and heavy hoofsteps can be heard from the direction of the door. _Doctor █████ can be heard breathing heavily.

"Just do it..."

_The sound of steps and laughter dies. The intruder does not identify itself. Further analysis discovers that D-273 has gone silent. No further activity happens in _Doctor █████'s recording _for five (5) seconds. _

"Do it."

_No further activity occurs for five (5) seconds. At that moment, D-273 screams and is cut off. Further footage on D-273's recording is irreparably corrupted. _

"Do it!"

_Further footage on Doctor █████'s recording is irreparably corrupted. _

**END LOG**

After reviewing the log in the hopes to discover the reason behind Doctor █████'s inexplicable disappearance, all recording of SC-1000 or its behavior is permanently disallowed.

Investigations come to the conclusion that both D-273 and Doctor █████ were taken by SCP-1000. No sign of SCP-1000 or Doctor █████ leaving the lab is on record. No audio or visual record exists of SCP-1000 entering or leaving the base.

**Addendum 1000-2A**:

FROM: Dr. █████ █. Aegis

TO: Director ███, Records and Information Security Administration

SUBJECT: Revision of SCP-1000

If my suspicions prove true, there may be more than one SCP-1000 entity in the Containment Area. I am formally requesting SCP-1000's Object Class be upgraded to Keter. If there is more than one of them and they require more sustenance than we can provide, we are boned beyond belief.

Dr. █████ █. Aegis

**Addendum 1000-3A**:

TO: Director ███, Records and Information Security Administration

FROM: Dr. █████ █. Aegis

SUBJECT: Revision of SCP-1000

Request denied. Although the events and implications of Addendum 1000-1A prove disconcerting, there is not enough concrete data to warrant such an upgrade. Until additional data supports a larger threat than what is present, SCP-1000's class shall remain as is. Additional resources to study SCP-1000 may be requested, if needed, however.

Director ███

* * *

An SCP Foundation story

Editors: Trachyon


	6. Tuesday 10:00 - New D-Class Orientation!

**Chapter 3: Tuesday 10:00 - New D-Class Orientation!**

Welcome to the Foundation!

For new D-Class, this orientation will tell you everything you need to know!

Listen carefully, and enjoy the complimentary bagels and orange juice!

The sterile white room was filled with neat rows of chairs and cushions, each and every one of them filled. It was as if the splattering hodgepodges of every race across the world was compressed into a single room: ponies, zebras, griffons, wyvern, gargoyles, fledgling dragons, cervidae, bison, llamas, and a smattering of others. Each had three things in common: an air of danger, an identical orange jumpsuit with a numerical designation, and they were in the facility because they were the scum of the earth.

That last fact made their desire to ignore the pony at the podium even more. He was a tan unicorn with a dirty blonde mane, a pair of glasses, an immaculate lab coat, and a name tag identifying him as "Dr. Salizar".

"Excuse me please, I'm here to start the orientation."

"I'm in for another ten years; fucking girlfriend squealed on me after a told the bitch to keep her trap shut."

"Gotta cut her ear to ear; it's what I'm in for. Shoulda' given me a call, brah."

The D-Class chatted with each other, comparing prison times and their causes for being sent to them in the first place. A few examined their room; it was the same boring white room as all the others. Sure, some rooms were gray, and others were almost back. The suits did not want to spoil them too fast, but it wasn't as if they were going anywhere. The room was lined with armed guards, some of them in armored gear.

"Everyone settle down so we can begin," Salizar declared.

"Twenty five to life, multiple homicides."

"Last bitch I saw, I showed her a good time for a good three hours before I cut my initials into her ribs. Don't know if she lived or not, but I gave the whore somethin' to remember me by."

"Fuck me, it looks like somepony remodeled your face with a spear."

"Smashed my fat ass into a chariot. You shoulda' seen the looks of the old couple that suddenly had their roofs repainted red. Fucking priceless."

"Professional theif. I tripped over a kid on getting some water in the middle of the night and bashed my head against a grandfather clock. I woke up in a cell."

"Yeah; real "Professional" right there."

"Fuck you."

"I once crashed a party full of kids and – "

"Shut the fuck up!" The room hushed to silence. None expected the doctor to have such an impressive degree of venom and volume to his voice. "There we go. Now, I'm here to tell you all why you are here. My name is Doctor Salizar, Director of Resources, and I – "

"I can't believe this shit. When that agent told me I could get out of prison – "

"_**I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!"**_

The griffon on the receiving end of Salizar's command blinked in surprise. The _gall_ of this stallion! To willingly piss off a room full of convicts! Sure, he had a small army of armed guards at his back, but it took some serious stones to talk down to a room full of murderers, killers, and thieves. Some of the D-Class began to smile; this doctor had a little bite to him.

"...As I was saying, this is a private facility dedicated to the betterment of scientific research and development. Yes, you are in a building, and that's about all you get to know as to where you are. You're not going to know why you were all blindfolded before you came here."

"Why not?" Some D-Class looked on eagerly for Salizar's incoming retory for interrupting, but he smiled happily and responded with genuine courtesy.

"I'm sorry, that's classified. That information is worth more than your life. Now, each and every one of you was approached by one of our agents and given a simple choice: continue your prison sentence, or complete one-tenth of your sentence here and be free to go. All of you wisely picked the better choice. Max sentence or one-tenth? Who wouldn't pick that kind of deal." Salizar chuckled quietly. Some of the convicts joined in his mirth, while others hid a shiver. Something wasn't quite right here.

"I'm serving two consecutive life sentences."

"Ah, that's not a problem. The mean sentence time at the Foundation is five years, and that will be assigned to all of you lovelies who would otherwise be wasting away inside a ten by twelve for the rest of your lives. After that, you're free to go. Go frolic in the forest, sunbath on the beach, or get caught and thrown into the slammer again. Makes no differences to me. After you've served your time, you're free to go. Our last batch of D-Class all made it out just fine. Not a single one died."

"Wait, died?"

"This is a research facility and accidents happen, research goes bad, ponies mess up. But don't worry; we take good care of the D-Class. Yes, you we be involved with dangerous things. Hell, a sword is dangerous, but it's perfectly safe as long as you know how to use it. The same applies to the Foundation: be a bunch of obedient ants, listen to the researchers, and everything will turn out fine.

"Now, it is your job to assist us in our research. Not all of the little tikes want to grow up and wear a fine lab coat, so we are a little understaffed in... certain areas. You are the workers and the heavy lifters. You are the peasants while we are the lords. Got it?"

"So what's the job?"

"Whatever we require of you at th – goddamn, he was right about the spear to the face." Salizar shook off the thought. "I digress. Each experiment varies, so what we require of you varies. It could be anything from moving equipment, to doing push ups, to sitting on your ass in front of a TV all day.

"The point is, you will do whatever we require of you. We will receive no fuss from you, no lip, no back talk, and no prison shenanigans. If I wake up and find out one of you shanked the other in the showers or couldn't keep his dick in his pants, I get the special pleasure of introducing you to..." Salizar cut his train of thought before smiling. As hardened as some of the convicts were, they couldn't help but shiver. There was a glimmer of malice in his eyes they had only seen in the most dangerous of their ilk. "...a friend of mine. His name is Ned. You'll be good friends with Ned. Then you go back to prison to spend the remainder of your sentence. All of it. Don't fuck up.

"That almost wraps up all my notes. After this, you'll be escorted back to the D-Block, where you will each be assigned a room and a number brand. Any questions?"

"Brand? The fuck is with that?"

"So we can identify you, of course. It's easy to switch clothing, but it's a little harder to hide a brand. It will be placed on each of your backs – oh, don't worry about your scales. We have our ways. And in the rare case of some catastrophe, the chest is the likely the biggest piece of meat to survive the fallout. Plus, placing it on your back makes it a little more difficult to alter it."

"Wait, what the fuck!? Catastrophe? The fuck do you do here?" an earth pony exclaimed.

"I told you, that's just worst case scenario. Accidents happen. Really, we're not going to put you through the meat grinder just for shits."

"Screw this shit, doc. I ain't doin' this weird bullshit you got planned and bein' a lab rat. I –" Salizar had nodded towards the disruptive pony. In unison, a pair of griffon guards put the pony in a lock and _most_ graciously escorted him out of the door.

"Now that we got that out of the way," the brief paused was emphasized by a crack and a crumpling body behind the door, "are there any more questions? No? Good, good.

"Welcome to the Foundation."

* * *

An SCP Foundation story

Editors: Trachyon


	7. SCP-026 - Conflagration

**Item #:** SCP-026

**Object Class:** Safe

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-026 is to be contained in a typical 3x3x3 meter containment chamber at Research Facility 07 with walls composed of tungsten or other refractory metals with a heat tolerance of at least 3,000°C when not undergoing research. All walls are to be coated in flame-retardant materials (asbestos cement, perlite boards, calcium silicate boards, etc.). An additional 1x1x1 meter cube made out of refractory metals contains SCP-026 and is used for transport to other sections of Research Facility 07. All hallways and walkways must remain clear when transporting SCP-026. No D-Class personnel are allowed to transport SCP-026 unless under armed guard (See Addendum 2341)

No guards are necessary for securing SCP-026's cell, but it must remain hermetically sealed at all times. Thermal enchantments must line every wall to detect increases in temperature. If the ambient heat rises above seven hundred (700) degree Celsius, fire suppression protocols shall be put into place until the blaze is under control.

**Description:** SCP-026 is a sample of eternally-burning dragonfire in the form of a torch. It has a base temperature of four hundred (400) degrees Celsius, but has been logged to reach temperatures of up to ██,███ degrees Celsius. Despite being secured in an airtight cell and drained of all kindling, SCP-026 does not require oxygen as a source of fuel and continues to burn.

Magi spectrographic analysis confirms the fire is dragonfire from the ████████████ period. No known dragons on record have produced similar flames. Research into historical sources that may aid in locating the producer of SCP-026 is underway.

**Containment History:** In a routine search of global topics and headlines, the Foundation discovered a series of arson fires in the Griffon Kingdoms territory of ███████. The Foundation contacted a Field Agent in the vicinity, ████ ███████, to discover any possible correlation to any unknown SCPs. His investigation led him to a secluded house registered to an elderly griffon couple who were later found murdered by the arsonist, who used SCP-026 as his weapon.

The agent executed the arsonist and called for a clean up crew. While searching the grounds, the agent discovered an underground cellar the arsonist used as a means for containing SCP-026. Feeling heat on the other side of the door, ███████ attempted to warn his reinforcements against opening the door, but was too late. The resulting backdraft killed ██ members of the clean up crew before ███████ sacrificed himself to contain the blaze. SCP-026 was otherwise safely recovered and brought into secure containment. ███████ received a posthumous commendation of valor for his actions.

**Addendum 2341:** On ██/██/████, D-92 was transporting SCP-026 along with Doctor █████ and Field Agent ██ ████. Unknown to both parties, D-92 had acquired a sample of SCP-████ and hidden it on herself. The resulting thermal reaction shattered SCP-026's protective casing, resulting in a fire and the lockdown of Research Facility 07. In total, ██ researchers, █ agents, and ██ D-Class personnel were killed, including D-92. █ SCPs breached containment, resulting in an additional █ deaths. All escaped SCPs were recaptured and returned to containment. Security measures on both SCP-026 and SCP-████ were updated accordingly

It is suspected that D-92 performed the act out of revenge due to her upcoming termination, which was scheduled for the following week. D-92 had prior history of rebellion against site staff and the Foundation.

* * *

An SCP Foundation story

Editors: Trachyon


	8. The O5 Council

**The O5 Council**

Doctor Sylar did not even stop for the guards just outside the Oracle Wing. Sylar's mane, tail, and ID flew as he ran, providing Sylar could run faster than his arthritis would allow. He knew that it was a serious breach in protocol for an Oracle to abandon a field agent or mobile task force. Without support a a stable means of communication with the nearest Foundation hub, what were they to do?

Skylar was soon puffing. He was a scholar, not a soldier. He was never built with the stamina necessary for intensive work. Sitting in front of a monitor or desk was where his calling lay. His fountain pen cutie mark attested to that.

Skylar stopped at the walls of cubicles for a breather. A pair of ponies talking next to a water cooler ceased their dialog and eyed Sylar with surprise. Skylar took one of their glasses with his magic and greedily drank the liquid.

"You little shit, all you need to do is grab you own and – "

Sylar was already gone, darting between griffons and ponies alike. He managed to avoid most, but his rapid pace would cause him to bump into researchers, spilling meticulously crafter documents.

None of the offenses he committed on his coworkers bothered him in the slightest. A single image plagued his mind: a starburst. Everypony with Level 3 clearance - like him - or above were required to know who that was. Twilight Faustina Sparkle, personal protege to Princess Celestia.

And she was right on Site-16's doorstep.

"Oh," Sylar moaned, "Celestia's going to kill us."

Sylar soon exited the office complex and entered an empty hallway lined with doors. Site-16 had what the Director called "modular redundancy". The offices, conference rooms, and labs were scattered throughout the facility, but still clustered in groups. The Director's own office was on the far end of the eighth floor, the floor he was currently on.

A door to one of the conference rooms opened without warning and out walked another researcher, causing Skylar's hooves to slide against the tiled floor in an effort to halt his momentum. It didn't help in the slightest; Sylar skidded across the floor on a direct collision course.

In a flash of red light, Skylar was propelled over the other researcher's head and hung there. "Where's the fire, Doctor? I don't believe SCP-026 is in this facility." Sylar recognized that strange drawl anywhere: Doctor Salizar, Director of Resources for Site-16.

Salizar was infamous for his ability to get into trouble and being too invaluable for anyone to do anything about it. He was thin to the point of gaunt, a lightly dappled gray coat, brown mane and tail, and what looked like a horseshoe cutiemark under his lab coat. What unnerved those he spoke to was his low, raspy tone of voice and odd stress on certain syllables. "I am quite certain such haste is not yet warranted, doctor. Unless..." Salizer held the 's' longer than what was needed. "You know something I am not aware of just yet?"

He was not the Site Director, but he would do.

"Doctor! Set me down!" Sylar scrambled through the air uselessly. "I have something important to tell you!"

Salizar smirked. Although irritated that his trip back from D-Class orientation was rudely interrupted, it was most certainly not normal to have other doctors or agents nearly crash into others without some kind of emergency. No matter how careful or redundant containment procedures may be, there was always a chance a particularly dangerous SCP could escape and wreak havok. The very mention of the word "keter" was enough to make junior researchers tremble in their coats.

"Okay, okay, settle down. What do we have that's put a fire under your tail?" Slowly but surely, Salizar set his underling down into his hooves. Sylar scrambled for a moment to regain his center of gravity. Salizar took the brief intermission to study the researcher: wide eyes, sweaty coat, and gasping breath. Salizar's eyes narrowed. Something _was_ wrong.

"I've got to tell you something. I just found someone just a few hours outside Site-16 You will _not_ believe who it is..."

Salizar stood calmly by a closed door, slowly tapping a hoof to some invisible beat in his head. On the other side of the door was where world-changing decisions were made. Agents and researchers that walked down the pristine hallway - pony, griffon or other - gave the door a wide berth as if it were host to some contagion that wished to avoid. Two characters were printed on the door and acted as the barrier that kept everyone away.

O5

Contagions and infectious agents were four levels down, but that was beside the point.

Upon hearing the alarming news, Salizar alerted his colleague, Site Director Dora Belladona. She, in turn, alerted the ruling power behind the entirety of the SCP Foundation: the O5 Council. Omnipresent, unquestioned, and all-knowing, the Council was the highest Foundation authority and decision maker there was.

With a hiss, the pneumatic door opened. Salizar walked in without a word. A figure stood in the shadows to his left: short stature, charcoal gray coat, blinding white mane, and a book cutiemark identified the individual as Belladona. Lab coats at Site-16 were fairly uniform, so it was difficult to differentiate one individual from another at a distance, but Salizar knew those acid-green eyes anywhere.

It was not an appropriate time to chat, however. Salizar's hooves echoed across the empty room and halted near the middle. It was only slightly larger than a standard corner office and the lights were dimmed, but size and light were not needed. At the other end of the room were two rows of semi concentric circles of pedestals. Atop of each was a single symbol, that of two rings with one inside the other with three arrows pointing inward. They were thirteen sigils of the O5 Council, one for each member, and all silently levitated on their pedestals in a dull blue light.

"Twenty minutes ago," Salizar enunciated slowly, overriding his slight accent, "Mobile Task Force Beta-4 encountered SCP-284-N, otherwise known as Cerberus, mere hours away from Site-16. The capture was uneventful and the secrecy was not exposed to civilian settlements.

"However, SCP-284-N was not alone. The subject was being escorted to the Gates by another before Beta-4 arrived: a lone unicorn by the name of Twilight Sparkle."

"The prodigal student?" a gender neutral voice rang through the room. Salizar could tell that the voice came from one of the sigils, but he could neither discern which particular one or where the speaker's voice originated. The robotic voice betrayed neither interest nor concern, only a request for clarification.

"Correct," Salizar replied. "Ms. Sparkle was escorting the creature to the Gates in accordance to its cover story. She is being escorted to this facility be Beta-4 as we speak."

"This is not acceptable, Director," another voice proclaimed. This one was slightly deeper, likely male. "Since our initial contact, Princess Celestia has made only one demand of us, and that is to leave her protege oblivious to Foundation affairs."

"This is true." Salizar said before remaining silent. The Council did not immediately respond. Salizar counted the seconds in the dark room, waiting for the O5 members to council with each other.

After precisely one hundred forty seven seconds, Salizar spoke, "Pardon the interruption, but this new turn of events may play well into our hooves and hands."

"Explain, Director. Celestia has made it very clear what she intends to do if we show interest in Ms. Sparkle," said a third.

The tiniest of smirks crossed Salizar's face. Although nothing but sigils, Salizar was certain that the Council could still see him. Somehow. "Ms. Sparkle approaches Site-16. Let us use this time in order to gauge her emotional acceptance to the Foundation."

Another member of O5 responded, "Such an opportunity, however desirable, remains out of even our considerable grasp. The risks of angering Princess Celestia and Ms. Sparkle's possible refusal makes the risks insubstantial compared to the actual gains."

"Not in the slightest, Council," Salizar's drawl started to return. "Of course, Ms. Sparkle may reveal no interest in the Foundation. Yes, Princess Celestia will soon learn of her pupil's intended destination, but we have never had so many cards play in our favor before. Ms. Sparkle is alone, unprotected, and away from those that shield her. Her venture was spontaneous, so not even the Royal Court knows of Cerberus' escape just yet. The cards are on the table and in our favor.

"If Ms. Sparkle refuses our offer or shows a general disinterest, we can wipe her mind with an amnesiac and declare to Princess Celestia that the entire situation was naught but a cruel hand dealt by fate. We simply deliver her to the princess, alive and unspoiled. The secrecy of the Foundation is maintained, and the princess gets her... precious _student_." Again, Salizar emphasized the wrong word.

"However...if Ms. Sparkle shows an interest in the Foundation, we can use the experience to better groom her for the future. Just _think_ of the possibilities!" Salizar's eyes were wide, urging those only a sigil away from his line of thinking. "Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Magic, and a direct line to one of the most powerful entities this world has ever seen. An Element, an eye and ear of the Royal Court, unlimited access to the Royal archives, the sheer amount of possibilities are endless if she joins the Foundation.

"Such power... such influence... Ms. Sparkle has experienced as much paranormal activity as any agent. I know she has the capability to become one of the most powerful member the Foundation has ever known."

The Council was silent once again. The floating thirteen sigils stood motionless, all wrapped in the identical magical hue. Salizar did not speak this time. Belladona had yet to speak at all. Her eyes pierced through the mild darkness and bore holes through the back of his skull.

"Agreed." Salizar's smirked widened. "We permit basic emotional and psychological testing to discover if Ms. Sparkle is susceptible to manipulation. Dismissed." The magical aura surrounding each sigil vanished. The conference room had gone dead cold in both temperature and silence.

Without another word, Salizar turned on his hooves and pranced out the door, his smile still adorned on his lips. Belladona followed him out soon afterwards, quietly shutting the door behind her as she left.

Salizar had only just turned to return to his office before a fured form crashed into his. Belladona had pinned him to the wall with her own body and secured his limbs with her magic. Her horn was directly under his jugular. The sharp horn pierced his flesh, drawing a sliver of blood. Salizar was terribly thin and but slightly taller than the average pony, but he still towered over the diminutive director. Despite her small size, the glare she gave the doctor was hot enough to melt through his skull and the wall behind him.

"What are you playing at, Salizar? You know the dangers of Ms. Sparkle coming here." Her musical soprano was as cold and hard as frozen iron.

"'Playing at'? Director, certainly nothing." Belladona pressed her horn harder against his throat. another rivulet of blood flowed through the groove on her horn and stained her cranium with a tiny dollop of crimson. Whatever researchers and agents that needed to pass through the hallway turned around and left, not daring to pass for fear of provoking Belladona or Salizar's wrath.

"'I ask of you so little. I now know of your existence, and I accept your deeds, both good and ill, for the benefit of the world. You have done much evil, but I accept that without your actions, the world would be reshaped by destruction. I will fund your research, provide you with resources in order to better help protect my kingdom from the monsters in the dark, and provide my own unofficial support. I ask of you only one boon: leave those I hold dear to my heart out of your affairs and in the dark. They are the wind at my sails, and I will fight a thousand bloody wars to keep them safe. I swear to you on this day: if the Foundation harms my friends and vassals, if they force them to dance on unseen strings, I will not destroy Foundation, I will silence them. They will be less than dust. They will be oblivion, the absence of all. I treasure my friends more than my rule, and if you harm them, I will devour you.'" Salizar smiled down at Belladona after his finished reciting the speech. Due to the awkward angle, Salizar only saw the tiniest sliver of her left eye. "Do you remember those words after Incident Report 213? When Celestia gave us her blessing and promise of destruction if we harmed those she holds dear?"

"I was there, doctor. What are you getting at?"

"I know exactly what she said, Bella. That is what I must impress."

Belladona hissed. "And yet you indorse this mad plan. Princess Celestia is wise, but she is weak when those close to her are in harms way. Her love of Ms. Sparkle blinds her. Why are you so calm when bringing her here sends an axe over our heads? We are powerful, but she has the power to inflict serious damage to the Foundation and threaten its secrecy. She may not end us, but she _will_ humble us."

"Of course. I know what she will do. Recall, I am not the one who summoned Ms. Sparkle to Site-16. I am not the one who ordered the approach of the MTF and release of Foundation secrecy. I am not the one escorting her to the Gates as we speak. Do not fault me for Doctor Sylar's foolishness. I know _exactly_ what the princess will do; I am only making the best moves to salvage a difficult situation. Can Ms. Sparkle be converted? If she can, we can use that knowledge to gain a foothold on a global stage and access to one of the most powerful weapons this world has ever known. If she cannot, she will be dealt with accordingly."

Belladona grit her teeth in anger. As absolutely infuriating as Salizar was, he was right, and he knew it; that same, calm half-smirk still adorned his face.

She growled in anger, released Salizar, and stormed off. His eyes narrowed and he brought a hoof up to his neck. His hoof was damp with a small splash of red. His pink tongue snaked between his lips and gathered the remains. The taste of iron burst into his mouth and he snickered. Soon his chuckling devolved into maniacal laughter.

"Ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, this is going to be absolutely _deliciously_ fun!"

* * *

An SCP Foundation story


	9. SCP-118 - Bookmark

**Item #:** SCP-118

**Object Class:** Safe

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-118 is to be kept in a Secure Storage Vault at Site-16. The vault itself must be guarded by two (2) security staff at all times. A complete documentation of tests and selected pages must be submitted to site command and approved before any tests may be performed. If testing deviates from the submitted plan in any manner, testing is suspended, all researchers are to be escorted out, and a disciplinary hearing will be held for all parties involved. SCP-118 must be returned to the vault when not in use or undergoing testing.

SCP-118 must not come into contact with any SCP or victim of an SCP that can produce cognitohazard or infohazard threats. All researchers and subjects involved in SCP-118 testing must be thoroughly certified before any request for SCP-118 is approved

**Description:** SCP-118 is a old leather bound book with 415 blank pages and a table of contents indexing all "filled" pages with date of the imprinted memories. Magical spectrographic analysis dates the book to approximately the year ████. There is a faded and unidentified entity portrayed in the center with an unidentified script circling it. Translation is still pending, but ██████ ███ ██████ is the suspected owner.

Whenever the reader opens SCP-118 to a blank page, he or she undergoes acute amnesia stretching the duration of exactly twenty four (24) hours. Psychological studies, MRI scans, and polygraphic spellcasting on amnesic subjects confirm the absence of all memories.

If a blank page has been seen, the page is filled with any and all sensory and memetic data the "writer" may possess in a .026 font size. Data is encoded in a highly complex compression algorithm, outlining each and every experience and thought the reader possessed in the imprinted day. Despite 216 recorded hours studying a "day" of Doctor █████████'s mind, only four (4) out of ███,███ sentences have been translated.

If a "reader" views a filled page, he or she instantly gains knowledge of all experiences, thoughts, and feeling perceived by whoever previously imprinted their thoughts onto the page. The gained memories are not superimposed over existing memories, but appended to existing ones. In essence, once a reader reads a page, they gain an entirely new day of current memories, creating a whole new "today" out of what was read. The process of reading a page removes all imprinted memetic data, rendering the page blank.

* * *

**Experiment Log 118:**

**Note to all Researchers:**

Please include your name on all records, along with date. Researchers are to keep careful logs of deposited and received memories. All notes and conclusions must be logged.

**Test Log Format:**

All test logs should be written in this form.

**Name: **

**Date: **

**Page:**

**Author:**

**Reader: **

**Input: **

**Output:**

* * *

**Name**: Dr. Strongbeak

**Date**: ██/█/10██

**Page**: 16

**Author:** D-27111

**Reader: **D-3872

**Input:** D-27111 sat in a blank interrogation room for 24 hours

**Output:** D-3872 recalls being in an identical room for a "long-ass" time. D-3872 also recalls that the memories he gained "pushed yesterday backward to make room for itself".

**Page**: 16

**Author:** D-725

**Reader:** D-00012

**Input:** D-725 was given an injection of ██████████ to sleep and ███████ to suppress dreams for two days before he was awoken to read a page.

**Output:** D-00012 recalls nothing except for the minute D-725 was awake and read the page.

_It appears SCP-118 collects unconscious memories as well as conscious ones. I am curious as to discover if the object can imprint dreams as well. I find it fascinating that SCP-1118 can also completely displace memories. Once a page is read, the last twenty four hours suddenly feels like yesterday, while the page read suddenly feels like the last twenty four hours. It's a jarring experience to be sure and memory is fallible, but this has to be the most remarkably efficient way to transfer memory I know. _

_~Dr. Strongbeak_

* * *

**Name:** Dr. Rashid

**Date:** ██/█/10██

**Page**: 298

**Author:** D-935. D-Class was selected for her regularly vivid dreams.

**Reader:** D-0264

**Input:** D-935 was given an injection of ██████████ and allowed to sleep for fourteen (14) hours.

**Output:** D-0264 recalls several dreams involving a hooded stallion rescuing him from a mob, several fantasy settings, and several carnal dreams from the perspective of D-935.

_Fascinating indeed. Further studies I need. Dreams cross from female to male, as do fantasies and epic tales._

_~Dr. Rashid_

* * *

**Name:** Dr. Salizar

**Date:** ██/█/10██

Request denied. No, you may not use SCP-118 to test if D-Class can grant memories to lab animals.

_Request granted by O5._

**Page**: 27

**Author:** D-183

**Reader:** _Canis lupus_ test subject

**Input:** D-183 was sent through physical training for most of the day prior to glancing at SCP-118

**Output:** _Canis Lupis_ subject displayed heightened emotional and physical fatigue typical of an intense workout.

**Page**: 28

**Author:** _Canis lupus_ test subject

**Reader:** D-183

**Input:** Test subject was in its kennel for most of the day, outside of its scheduled walks

**Output:** D-183 recalls the sounds and smells typical of a kennel, the occasional walk, and "a fucking jerkass labcoat".

**Page**: 27

**Author:** Dr. Salizar

**Reader:** _Canis lupus_ test subject

**Input:** Dr. Salizar read several medical textbooks for most of the preceding day.

**Output:** _Canis Lupus_ subject displayed no mentally or physically abnormal behavior other than muscular fasciculations.

**Page**: 28

**Author:** _Canis lupus_ test subject

**Reader:** A separate _Canis Lupus_ test subject

**Input:** Author _Canis lupus_ was recovering form exposure to SCP-███.

**Output:** Reader _Canis lupus_ showed an intense fear of bright lights and loud noises.

_I do not see any practical means to use SCP-118 with animals, but it provides a wonderfully covert means to store memories without notice. Who would ever think to talk to a dog for classified research? Whether animals can retain the knowledge is inconclusive, but there is a clear bridge between the species._

_~Dr. Salizar_

_Trainer Scaros has been disciplined and demoted to D-Class for abusing lab animals. _

_~Site Director Belladona_

* * *

**Name:** Dr. Salizar

**Date:** ██/█/10██

Dr. Salizar's starting notes: I'm curious as to what would happen when more than one page is "read".

**Page**: 46 & 47

**Author:** Dr. Salizar

**Reader:** Dr. Grayfeather

**Input:** Dr. Salizar read two consecutive pages. Dr. Salizar reported reviewing SCP-118, SCP-382, and SCP-284-N documentation for most of the two days

**Output:** Dr. Grayfeather recalled the same documentation over both days.

_Fascinating. It appears that if two pages are viewed simultaneously, it imprints a total of two days, not the usual one. When used correctly, SCP-118 could be the most effective means to hide a sleeper agent ever produced._

_~Dr. Salizar_

_Dr. Salizar was reprimanded for imprinting a total of eight hours of pornography into Dr. Grayfeather's mind via SCP-118_

_~Site Director Belladona_

_Holy _**[EXPLETIVE REDACTED]**_, how did you get all of that past gate security, Zar? I'm pretty sure they don't make that stuff in Equestria. God damn; I'll never look at a champagne bottle the same way again._

_~Dr. Grayfeather_

* * *

An SCP Foundation story

Editors: Trachyon


	10. SCP-976 – Doctor Destiny

**Item #**: SCP-976

**Object Class**: Keter

**Special Containment Procedures**: SCP-976 is uncontained and may never be contained. Due to the ease SCP-976 can penetrate Foundation security, it has earned a keter designation. Should any agent or researcher come into contact with anypony identifying itself as SCP-976 or "Destiny", extreme caution is advised. All staff are encouraged to learn and converse with SCP-976 should it appear to them.

Any and all containment options for SCP-976 should be reported to your Site Director. All suggestions are welcome, regardless of who may suggest them.

All hospital reports and newspaper sources are to be monitored for any identifiable reference to a "Doctor Destiny" or near death experiences involving an unknown doctor. Should any take place, the victim is to be questioned on their experiences and given a Class-A Mnemonic Enchantment.

**Description**: SCP-976 is a male, middle-aged earth pony identifying itself as "Destiny" who often dresses in a standard issue doctor's garb. To date, the subject has not expressed any hostility or desire to inflict any harm upon the Foundation, despite knowing more classified intelligence than even high security Foundation agents are considered capable of obtaining. SCP-976 has expressed an encyclopedic knowledge of all individuals it has seeked out.

The subject appears to injured individuals close to death and heals their wounds before leaving. The Foundation has procured records from civilian and military hospitals highlighting similar encounters with a doctor identifying himself as "Destiny". Further research into historical records dating back over seven hundred years indicate a total of ███ similar instances of a healer coming to ponies' aid. Further research is underway to discover more instances of SCP-976.

SCP-976 displays vast and extensive knowledge of anatomy and surgical procedures, along with experience in microbiology, infectious diseases, epidemiology, radiology, pharmacology, pediatrics, oncology, anatomy, and physiology. The wide degree of medical knowledge is inconsistent with SCP-976's approximate age and time required to learn such advanced techniques, indicating the subject is far older than physical appearances suggest.

SCP-976 is in possession of medical technology far more advanced than even the finest facilities in the world. To date, the subject has been capable of cleansing radiation sickness within the span of three (3) hours, curing SCP-1523 in even its most advanced stages, and carries a functional hive of **[REDACTED]**.

No known physical or magical barrier is capable of deterring SCP-976. The subject is able to access and exit heavily fortified Foundation structures without entering through any access hatch. This data, in along with eyewitness testimonies, suggest a form of locomotion or transport not fully understood by science or magic.

**Containment History**: SCP-976 came to the attention of the Foundation after Field Agent Captain ████ ████████ suffered debilitating wounds at the hooves of SCP-724. ████ told the tale of a healer coming to him in the darkness and splinting his leg so he could escape. A formal inquiry was established in order to identify the intruder, as it was not typical SCP-724 behavior. No definite conclusions were reached and the case was shelved.

After the incident, other agents compared similar "final moment" stories. The results produced an unusually high number of instance where agents were rescued by a stallion claiming no association with the Foundation. After compiling all known instances of SCP-976, there were a confirmed seven (7) encounters with researchers and field agents, ███ encounters with civilians, and ██ encounters with world military and political members.

* * *

**Addendum 976-28-1:** Record log of Captain ████ ████████'s questioning about his encounter with SCP-976.

**Interviewer:** Doctor Nova

**interviewee:** Captain ████████

***BEGIN LOG***

**Doctor Nova:** This will all be on record, captain.

**Captain** ████████: Understood.

**Doctor Nova:** Please state your name and rank.

**Captain **████████: Captain ████ ████████, Containment Area 23.

**Doctor Nova:** Describe the events preceding your encounter.

**Captain** ████████: I was ambushed by a group of SCP-724-2. All were terminated, but I lost my wingpony and three agents in the process. I had two broken legs, a compound fracture in my wing, and some broken ribs. I wasn't going anywhere and knew very well I might not be able to make it out alive at that point. Since I was located on the seventh level and on one of the recon teams, it wasn't likely I would be discovered anytime soon.

I accepted the fact I would not make it out. I even prepared a cyanide capsule in case I encountered SCP-724-1 or SCP-724-2; none want to be turned into SCP-724-2. I wasn't making much progress in my state.

I turned the corner of the T-junction right next to the western wall, and that's when I saw him. He was dressed in a lab coat with the most utterly blank look on his face.

**Doctor Nova:** The intruder did not approach you?

**Captain** ████████: It appeared he knew I was coming and was just waiting for me. I didn't recognize him as anyone registered on site and he didn't look like one of the infected SCP-724-2, but I knew enough staff to know that he didn't belong there. I asked him who he was, and he said Destiny. I prepared myself for a fight, and that's when he just pulled out some supplies from his saddlebags. He asked me to lie down and hold still like it was the most normal thing in the world. Being in that building didn't even phase him. It was admirable, really.

**Doctor Nova:** You allowed him to operate on you?

**Captain** ████████: Allow? Not at first, but it wasn't as if I had a choice. I was too wounded to put up much of a fight and he overpowered me quickly when I resisted. He just started operating on me, stitching wounds and resetting ribs. Honestly, I let him after that.

**Doctor Nova:** Did the subject say anything during the procedure?

**Captain** ████████: Precious little. I asked him the usual array of questions: Who are you? What do you want? With whom are you affiliated? I got Destiny as a name and then got the silent treatment.

**Doctor Nova:** Describe him for me.

**Captain** ████████: Earth pony. Tall, slender, and wearing a lab coat. Couldn't see the cutie mark. He was very gaunt, almost as if he hasn't slept in days. His saddlebags were unremarkable, but were full of medical supplies, a mechanical **[REDACTED]**, and a photograph stitched into the leather.

**Doctor Nova:** Describe the photo.

**Captain** ████████: Not possible. I was in the lesser lit sections of SCP-724, so I couldn't see much. All I had was my lantern and a flashlight, and that was only just enough to see the floor and little else. [Captain ████████ is momentarily silent]

Stupid of me for not realizing that. I could barely see anything, yet he managed to operate on me in near complete darkness? He shouldn't have been able to do that. Even a gargoyle's darkvision is barely enough to see in SCP-724.

**Doctor Nova:** Did the subject have some form of equipment to allow him to see in darkness?

**Captain** ████████: None. Just his eyes. I don't know how he managed it, but he did.

**Doctor Nova:** Alright then. Did anything else happen while he was operating on you?

**Captain** ████████: Not really. I was paying close attention for any sounds or presence, but, fortunately, nothing happened. The pony kept working without a word, splinting my leg and stitching wounds.

**Doctor Nova:** What happened afterwards?

**Captain** ████████: He just wandered off. After he was done, he packed up his gear and wandered back into the shadows. I tried following him to see where he came from or where he would go, but I had no such luck. I couldn't fly or walk very fast, but even if I could, I don't think it would have helped. He rounded a corner, so I pursued. When I rounded the same corner, he was gone. I still had a lantern and it was enough to find my way, but there was nothing. In fact, it was a dead end. I checked the wall for any seams, cracks, or enchantment, but found none. He simply... vanished.

**Doctor Nova:** Very well. I believe I have all I need, captain.

***END LOG***

A full security sweep was ordered to check for holes in surveillance and possible security leaks. No intruders were detected, but site logs discovered a massive spike in ███████ particles. ████████ Protocol 273 was placed in effect in afterwards.

* * *

**Addendum 976-28-2**: Hearsay transcript of a conversation between Field Agent Diamond Dust and SCP-976. Due to the heavy wounds inflicted upon the agent due to a battle with **[REDACTED]**, the conversation was transcripted after events had taken place. This particular encounter is of note, as it is the longest conversation with SCP-976 on record.

***BEGIN LOG***

**Agent Dust**: It's you. Holy shit, it's you. Doctor –

**SCP-976**: Destiny.

**Agent Dust**: ...Why?

**SCP-976**: Why you? [Subject proceeds to cauterize hemorrhaging wounds. Agent screams in pain] Such things make no difference to me anymore.

**Agent Dust**: But you're a doctor.

**SCP-976**: That does not give me the ability to care.

**Agent Dust**: Why stop caring at all then?

**SCP-976**: I never started.

**Agent Dust**: Then why go through all this effort? You come to us in our final moments, for... for what?

**SCP-976**: [SCP-976 stops his work for a moment] What do you cherish most, Dust? Your son and daughter who do not even know you are alive? The wife that believes you to be dead? A cloak-and-dagger organization with hearts as empty as the void of space? The Foundation has poisoned you so much that you can no longer discern between right and wrong.

[SCP-976 chuckles] I am one to talk.

**Agent Dust**: I do this job so that others can live normal lives, doctor. This planet is filled to the brim with shit that could kill us ten times over. I do this so my kids can have normal lives. Yeah, it sucks to not see them, but I'd rather have them happy and ignorant than know what's out there and be miserable.

**SCP-976**: How noble to force your beliefs of happiness and values on others. That is not your decision to make, Dust. You take for granted the ability to choose.

[SCP-976 resets agent's ribs. Agent screams in pain]

I do what I must. No more.

**SCP-976**: [SCP-976 proceeds to pack its gear] You will be fine if you rendezvous with your squad. Three klicks east.

**Agent Dust**: Doctor?

**SCP-976**: [SCP-976 does not respond, but halts]

**Agent Dust**: What did you choose to do all this, helping ponies and all that?

**SCP-976**: I never got to choose.

***END LOG***

The subject left Agent Dust shortly after. Agent Dust reached his squad safely, where he then proceeded to transcribe what he experienced.

* * *

**Addendum 976-28-3**: A memo from Assistant Director Zed:

_I am thankful this SCP has rescued so many agents in their hour of need. I cannot thank SCP-976 enough for its deeds, both the tall and the small. I would personally commendate it for its actions_.

_That is why it must be contained at all costs. SCP-976 is not an angel, but a normal pony with an extraordinary ability, and that makes it dangerous. This SCP has the ability go wherever it wishes with absolutely no hindrance. What if, on a whimsy, it decided to venture to the O5 council? A leader of a ruling nation? In the middle of a classified scientific research facility? What if SCP-976 suffers just one bad day and makes a mistake, killing instead of saving? SCP-976 is the perfect healer, and that makes it the perfect assassin, and that is why it must be contained._

_~Assistant Director Zed_


End file.
